


A Duel in Utah

by berrysloot



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU, Duelling, F/F, Ineffable Wives, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Lesbians, Wild West AU, yes they are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrysloot/pseuds/berrysloot
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 16





	A Duel in Utah

Aziraphale stood, her back pressed against that of her opponent. She’d heard of Rick Cassidy for a while now; there were reports of him all over the territories, but she hadn’t been in his presence before this moment. As they stood back to back, Aziraphale sensed something familiar about the man at her back, a whiff of perfume that brought her back to a time many years before, a time she hardly remembered.

It took her a second to place the scent into any meaningful context, but once she did, she realized that the scent reminded her of Crowley. She hadn’t seen Crowley in years, and wondered why this rough-edged cowboy was wearing the same scent as her former companion. Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t parted on the best of terms, but Aziraphale missed her deeply.

Suddenly, the pressure at Aziraphale’s back was gone, and she realized that she needed to get moving, lest her opponent get the upper hand. Aziraphale was famous in the territories for never having lost a duel, and she wasn’t going to let this little distraction ruin her reputation. She needed to keep up appearances to protect herself, as it was hard to be a woman out west making a living for herself. She began to pace forward, counting each step meticulously until she reached 20. Once she’d finished, she placed her feet firmly beneath her, breathing in deeply, taking in some of the crisp, cleansing fall air.

They heard the clock tower ring, Aziraphale staring at the bell swaying back and forth with a sense of detachment, distraction even. She needed to gather herself before the twelfth ring, as that was when the duel would truly begin. She took another breath, quicker this time, and placed her hand beside her hip, ready to draw her pistol. She was just so distracted by that tiny whiff of perfume on Rick Cassidy. She didn’t know why it had thrown her off so thoroughly, she hadn’t thought of Crowley in years, let alone been distracted by her.

Finally, she heard the eleventh and twelfth rings of the bell in the clock tower. The time had begun. She didn’t feel anywhere close to prepared, but that had to change quickly if she was going to remain the best gunslinger in the Utah territories. As she turned, she saw the events in front of her unfold almost in slow motion. Cassidy’s hat fell to the ground, revealing a mass of curly, bright red hair. Suddenly, Aziraphale blushed, realizing why Cassidy smelled so familiar.

All those stories she’d heard then, all those harrowing tales of cruelty and bravery, all of them were about Crowley. Aziraphale ripped the ragged, sun bleached red bandana off of her face with her right hand, still pulling her pistol out with her left. She wasn’t sure if Crowley would still be mad at her, even though it’d been so many years since they last met. At that, she wasn’t even sure if Crowley would recognize her. Her hair was remarkably short these days, as it always got in the way while working in the saloon and during duels.

“CROWLEY” she screamed, holding her gun up in the air, in what she hoped was a non-threatening gesture. She really didn’t plan on getting shot today and wasn’t sure what she would do if Crowley did decide to fire on her. Customarily, these men were too cowardly to duel a woman, once they saw Aziraphale’s loose hair and long skirt, they usually gave up on the spot. So, to be quite honest, Aziraphale had little experience in winning duels due to her skills rather than her gender. In reality, she was a horrible shot, but just won through sheer luck, she guessed. Or stupidity, maybe.

“Aziraphale? Is that you?” Crowley shouted across the distance separating them. “What in the hell are you doing here, angel?” Crowley replied, clearly quite confused at the entire situation. Cassidy, or rather, Crowley, hadn’t given up the duel upon seeing Aziraphale in a dress because she was also a girl. That made a bit more sense, but with the stories she’d heard of Cassidy she was quite surprised that Crowley was capable of such atrocities. She was a demon, after all, but Aziraphale thought she had good within her yet.

“I live here, dear. I have for many years. Do you mind if I put this thing down?” Aziraphale replied, waving the gun with disgust. She truly disliked the invention, just saw it as a means to an end, at least at this point in history. She dearly hoped guns would go out of fashion soon. They didn’t allow for the same amount of delight brought by a swordfight.

“Oh surely, I’m not planning on shooting you. Do you really think I hate you that much? It was you that walked away, if you remember correctly.” Crowley replied, with a friendly laugh. So, they were on good terms, Aziraphale thought. She was thrilled to find that out, as she couldn’t stay mad at Crowley for long. She placed the gun in her holster, and when she was assured it was safely in, she closed the distance between her and Crowley as quickly as possible, picking up her skirts and running. She wrapped Crowley in a huge embrace. At this, the spectators dispersed, clearly disappointed in the amicable end to the duel. They craved bloodshed, not comforting reunions.

“How have you been, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, finally releasing her from the constricting hug. “I’ve missed you terribly. How did you come to be Rick Cassidy? I simply have to hear the entire story. Here, come with me, I own the bar down the road. We can have a drink or two and catch up,” Aziraphale said rapidly, one question after the other. She placed her arm out for Crowley to link into. Crowley obliged, and the odd pair walked down the road, disappearing into the pub for the foreseeable future, with much to catch up on and many gaps to fill in, firstly, Crowley’s newfound fame and Aziraphale’s strange career change.


End file.
